Construction of My Imagination
by Qui Vivre Verra
Summary: A collection of drabbles/one-shots that are only somewhat related if you squint but that are full of angst and fluff.
1. I'll Teach You How to Act

**Hi guys! Here's the first in my collection of Minewt prompts, most of which I get on tumblr (shameless plug: becarefuldontdienewt). None of these are related necessarily and most of them are AU!**

 **Disclaimer for the whole collection: I still don't own the rights to TMR!**

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Minho Park was going to be the death of him, of that Newt was one hundred percent certain. Why, you ask?

Newt D. Wright was one of the biggest names in modern cinema. He had performed on Broadway, worked with the biggest names in Hollywood, and directed some of the best-know romances of the twenty-first century. An all before he turned thirty. But his current project, Black November, was going to go down in history alongside Titanic as one of the most beautiful and tragic love stories to ever air on the big screen. It was the simple tale of forbidden love between two men in the 1920s. And it was absolutely perfect.

Well it would be, without Minho fucking Park messing everything up. He was beautiful, no doubt about that, and had seemed perfect for the part of Hyun-Ki, an adventurous Korean immigrant in his mid-twenties. Though Minho was undoubtedly a good actor, his arrogance was going to ruin the whole movie. Today was one of many days he had failed to memorize the script and, because of this, the production was falling behind schedule.

They've been trying to shoot the same scene, a passionate rendezvous, for an entire morning and Newt was getting frustrated. It was hard enough as it was to get the right lighting in the secluded courtyard without the main actors ruining take after take. Minho barely remembered his lines and his costar, Thomas, was struggling to stay focused.

"CUT!" Newt shouted after another disastrous take. "Minho, can you _please_ be serious so we can get this scene finished before nightfall _?_ "

"I was, _sir,_ " the Asian responded sarcastically. "It's him that's messing me up," he added, nodding to Thomas, who wasn't paying attention.

Newt rolled his eyes and muttered a direction to the cameraman before replying, "No it's not."

"I swear it is! He doesn't know how to kiss and it's throwing me off!"

"I'm starting to believe neither of you do. What happened? You two had such good chemistry during the auditions."

Minho crossed his arms like a petulant child and muttered, "I _am_ a great kisser."

"No," Newt responded, his voice going shrill with annoyance. "You aren't. This is supposed to be passionate and you're just really sloppy."

"Like you'd be any better," Minho said under his breath. At this point, the crew had taken off their gear, knowing it'd be a while before the two settled down.

"I would be," replied the annoyed blonde. "But I'm not the one getting paid five million to put on a stellar performance. Yours isn't even decent."

"Well I didn't hire myself"

"I hired you because I thought you were a good actor."

Minho opened his mouth, as if to fire back a scathing remark, but shut it quickly. He shook his head and got up to leave. The blonde director, seeing this, jumped up to stop his lead actor from quitting.

"Look, I'm sorry, Minho. I went too far. I do think you're a great actor, I just haven't seen any passion in your performance today." He slowly approached the Asian, genuine concern etched into his face. Minho refused to answer him.

Newt took a shaky breath. "This is how I want you to kiss." With that, he reached one hand out to Minho's cheek and pulled their lips together.

He had always thought that there's no such thing as a perfect kiss. No such thing as fireworks or electricity. This kiss, though, was just that. It started slow, agonizingly slow, but with a heat that spread fire through his entire body. When he wove one hand into Minho's perfect hair, the other man pulled him closer and ran his tongue along Newt's upper lip. The blonde let him in, a small groan leaving his lips. His hands were never still, moving from Minho's face to his neck to his waist. The Asian was letting out low moans and Newt didn't think he'd ever heard anything hotter. Nothing could compare to this, their lips on each other, rough and needy and desperate.

With a jerk, Minho pulled back, his eyes wide and his lips red. Suddenly, Newt was all too aware of their audience, his face flushing red as he made eye contact with an uncomfortable Thomas.

"Yeah, I – I think I can do that," Minho said, regaining his composure.

The blonde ran a shaky hand through his hair. "Good that."


	2. Aaaannnndd SOLD!

**This prompt was to have one of the two 'buy' the other at a date auction! Enjoy!  
**

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This was an awful idea. There had to be at least a hundred students here, all with eager faces and stuffed wallets. Newt eyed a student with gages and a tattoo sleeve. Such an awful idea, he thought. He wasn't sure why he though selling himself for charity was a good idea, but he blamed Thomas for convincing him. Some of the students in the crowd were eyeing him like meat as he stood nervously on the stage alongside the other deranged individuals who had signed up to do this. Screw charity.

The girl up for bids now was tall and brunette. Newt vaguely recalled her introducing herself as Teresa (though he had felt like he was going to puke during introductions and therefore didn't pay much attention).

"Can I get $20 for this lovely lady here?" The announcer asked the eager crowd. Continuing to curse his involvement in this social prostitution, Newt nearly missed when a familiar hand shot in the air. He gave Thomas a quizzical look from atop the stage, but his friend only had eyes for the brunette. Newt rolled his eyes.

The next person up was a young but confident boy whom the announcer called Alby, who eventually sold for $45. Newt was floored, no way he'd make that much.

Just as he was pondering escape, an elbow nudged him forward.

The lights were suddenly so bright. So many people were talking and he couldn't focus, especially not on the announcer. There were so many expectant faces, were they impressed? Disappointed?

"Let's start out with fifteen dollars? Can I get a 15?" The announcer's booming voice washed over the audience.

This was it. No one was going to bid on him and he'd become the laughing stock of the entire school. He should've pre-ordered a gravestone.

To his surprise, a hand raised from the third row. Newt squinted to see the face that accompanied the hand and became even more surprised. For starters it was a guy (not that Newt minded at all, in fact he'd prefer to date a guy). A really hot guy. He was Asian, from what Newt could see, with toned muscles and spiked hair. And oh my gosh was he gorgeous.

"Ok, great! Can we get twenty dollars for this fine gentleman here?" Suddenly Newt wished the announcer would stop talking. 15 was just fine if it let him go on a date with the beautiful boy.

Much to his displeasure, another hand raised. It was shucking Thomas. Thomas, whom he had told earlier to save him from an awful date. Thomas, who already had a nice date lined up. Thomas the life ruiner.

"Twenty-five dollars anyone?" Continued the announcer.

Luckily, the eye-candy from the third row had decided Newt was good enough to pay more for. Thomas must have decided his friend wasn't worth thirty dollars and didn't speak up when the bid was raised (thankfully).

"AANNND SOLD!" Boomed the announcer.

Newt took that as his cue to leave and bounded off the stage. He meandered along the edge of the room, considering how to approach his buyer. He hadn't gone on a good date in over a year. What if he embarrassed himself and the guy decided he didn't want to go out anymore? He'd never live that down.

As luck (or maybe unluck) would have it, the mystery man approached him first.

"Hi, Newt." The blonde started when he heard his name before remembering that the announcer had probably introduced him while he was busy wallowing in self-pity. "I'm Minho."

"Uh, hi. I'm Newt." He wanted to slap himself in the forehead. This was not going great. At all.

Minho just laughed and replied, "Nice to meet you."

"Can I ask why you bid on me?" Newt asked, trying to keep the nerves out of his voice.

"How could I not? You're gorgeous," the Asian responded with a wink. At Newt's blush, he continued. "Here's my number. Text me sometime so we can set up our date?"

"Uh, yeah. Okay." With a small smile, the blonde accepted the scrap of paper. "I'll see you later?"

"Absolutely, Newtie." With that, Minho turned to leave.

This was definitely the best worst decision Newt has ever made.

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 **A/N: I forgot to mention previously that all of my work is completely un-beta'd!  
Hope you enjoyed! Please favorite/review, its what keeps me writing (:**


	3. Not So Sweetly Singing Through The Night

**In the spirit of Christmas! It didn't fit with my 12 Days series, but enjoy nonetheless! I still don't own TMR and all of my work is unbeta'd!**

-Not So Sweetly Singing Through The Night-

At first Newt thought it was a dream, the inhumane noise coming from outside his house, but then it persisted as he shook the sleep from his eyes. He squinted to read his alarm clock. It read 2:06 AM. "What the-?" he grumbled to himself as he crawled out of bed. He stumbled into the bathroom to throw on his glasses and robe and all the while the strange noises continued. As he made his way to his front door, he picked up a broom. Better than nothing should there be a serial killer on the other side of the wall, he figures.

He yanked the door open roughly and peered outside hesitantly. Though he saw nothing in the darkness, the horrid noises continued. He stepped outside and wrapped his robe more tightly around him. "Stupid fucking branch," he cursed as he tripped his way around to the back of his house. When he made it, he found a figure swaying under the dim porch light and belting what could be 'Angels We Have Heard on High.' Maybe. Newt wasn't sure.

"Um, Hello?" Newt called from a distance, tightening his grip on the broomstick. "Sir? Hello?" The man didn't respond and didn't cease his singing.

"HELLOOO." Newt shouted. Finally, the screeching stopped and the figure turned to look at him. Newt was taken aback; for someone drunkenly singing outside a stranger's home in the middle of the night the man was surprisingly attractive. He had striking cheekbones and beautiful, though clouded, eyes.

"Can I help you?" Newt asked.

"Morning, good sir!" The man responded.

"What are you doing?"

"Are you Harry Potter?"

"No. Will you _please_ stop screaming outside of my house at this ungodly hour?"

"What time is it," the man asked, as if the rest of Newt's sentence were irrelevant.

"It's a quarter past two. In the morning. Will you _please_ go home?"

"Home?" The man repeated, his head cocked and eyebrows furrowed.

"H-O-M-E. Wherever it is that you live, please go there."

The man looked no less confused but turned around and sauntered off nonetheless. Newt watched the man leave until he was certain he was no longer on his property then turned around and went back inside.

Newt groaned and dropped his head on the papers in front of him. His practical examination for law school was in less than a week. His task was to defend a client in a real court for a low-risk case. Still, he couldn't afford to mess this up. There had to be some evidence that his client was innocent. He racked his brain, searching for something, _anything_ that would help him win the upcoming case. That was when he heard it again. That awful screeching.

Newt flung himself out his chair, both angry and curious (but mostly angry). He headed straight to the back door, sans broom.

"What the HELL are you doing?" He shouted as he shoved open the door. The man was standing in the same place he stood just a week earlier, belting at the top of his lungs. This time it was 'The First Noel.'

The man continued singing, though he did turn to look at Newt.

"Stop it, you're really obnoxious."

"You're really pretty," the man said suddenly.

Newt paused, his mouth agape. Whatever he had expected to come out of the drunk guy's mouth, it wasn't that. After taking a moment to collect himself, he responded, "you really need to go home."

"What's your name?"

"Newt," he responded, exasperated.

"I'm Minho," the man slurred.

"That's great. Will you please leave now?"

"Yeah, yeah," the man said as he turned and ambled away.

Newt groaned internally and headed back inside. He really needed to finish his work with absolutely no more distractions.

"WE WISH YOU A MERRRY CHRISTMAASS-"

Newt wanted to scream. Minho had been outside his house for an hour now. Originally, Newt thought he could just ignore him and he'd go away, but so far that tactic wasn't working. Giving in, he pushed himself out of his chair and made his way to the back porch.

"Hello, Minho."

For once, the man stopped singing immediately. "Hi Newt!"

"Why are you here again?"

"To see you, beautiful." Normally, Newt would cringe at a drunk guy attempting to flirt with him, but there was something different about Minho.

"Come sit," Newt offered with a sigh, nodding his head toward his patio furniture. As Minho stumbled up the stairs, Newt asked, "Are you ok?"

Minho plopped himself down next to Newt. "Why d'ya ask?"

"Because this is the third time in two weeks that you've drunkenly caroled outside of my house in the middle of the night."

The other man was silent for a long time, so long that Newt began to wonder if he had lost consciousness. Just as he was about the check, Minho said, "I don't know, honestly."

Newt didn't press further, just waited for Minho to either elaborate or drop the subject.

"My mom kicked me out."

The blonde shot his companion a surprised look. "Why?"

"I'm twenty and making no effort to find a job. She also found out that I'm gay." Minho, who seemed suddenly sober, said this so casually, as if he were tossing out his coffee order.

"So where've you been living since?"

"I've been squatting wherever I could: my friend's place, my car, a vacant building."

Though Newt's heart ached for this broken stranger, the words that came out of his mouth next surprised him. "Do you want to stay here for a while?"

Minho smiled but declined. "Nah, my friend Thomas me covered for a while. Thank you though, Newt." With this, he heaved himself up and started to head out.

"Minho, wait!" Newt called, not sure what he was going to say. "Thank you, too."

"I didn't do anything," the Asian responded, confused.

Newt shrugged. "You're pretty good entertainment."

It was six o'clock and Newt was eating a sandwich when the doorbell rang. He brushed off the crumbs and stood, confused. He wasn't waiting on anyone, who could that be?

He pulled the door open and came face to face with a very handsome and very sober Minho. He hadn't come to bother Newt in a few weeks even though Christmas was drawing nearer.

"Minho, hi?"

The Asian cleared his throat, "uh, hi Newt."

"What- what're you doing here? Y'know, at a normal time of day?"

"I wanted to thank you and to get to know you. It's not fair that you know my whole life story and I know nothing about you."

"I'd say there's a whole lot more to know about you," Newt replied, leaning against the doorframe.

"Why don't you let me take you to dinner and maybe you'll find out."

Newt thought back to his turkey and lettuce sandwich and quickly decided to accept the offer.

"I can't believe you went commando at graduation," Newt gasped between breaths.

"I couldn't back down from a dare!"

"You're insane," the blonde said incredulously. "With everything you've done, you're absolutely insane."

Minho shrugged, "Insane isn't so bad."

"No, no it's not."

"So, what's your story?"

Newt took a bite of his pizza before responding, "Umm I grew up in Liverpool and moved here for University. Now I'm having the time of my life living alone and suffering through law school."

"And?"

"And what?" Newt responded with a shrug.

"What else is there to you?" At Newt's blank look, he continued, "What do you love? What do you do for fun? Who is _Newt_?"

"Newt isn't all that exciting, to be honest. I haven't done anything crazy, I don't really do much of anything except eat, sleep, and study."

"Well, Newt should take a look in the mirror. Minho thinks he's pretty amazing."

"You barely know me," Newt responded with a chuckle.

Minho leaned back in his chair and took a long sip of his coke. "This is true. But I know there's more to you than that."

"I didn't lie to you."

"No, you're lying to yourself."

Newt gave him a curious look. "For someone who gets wasted and serenades strangers you're really smart."

"I know."

"So, why aren't you in college?" Newt probed.

"Couldn't afford it. And I dicked around too much in high school to get a scholarship. So now I pass my time…well you know."

"Do you mind if I ask, um, you don't talk to your parents anymore? At all? Are you going to visit them for Christmas or anything?"

Minho took a deep breath and shifted to put his weight on the table. "No."

"And they kicked you out because…you're gay?"

"Mostly."

"Do you regret telling them?"

"No. I may have to sleep in my car sometimes but I can finally be me and that's worth it."

"You're awfully optimistic about your situation."

Minho shrugged, "What else can I be?"

"You could be angry at the entire world," Newt offered.

"I probably should be, to be honest. I have nowhere to live, really, and no income." He barked out a laugh, "but hey, there's nothing I can do about that now."

At that time, the waitress came around with their bill. Minho motioned to pay, but Newt waved him off. He handed her his card with a smile and turned back to Minho.

"So, where are you staying now? Still at your friend's place?"

"Nah, the shank kicked me out too, I was freeloading too much."

"The offer's still open to stay at my place, y'know. If you want."

"After one date? Geez you move fast, Newt."

"That's not what I meant," the blonde said hurriedly. "I just don't want you sleeping in your car." The waitress returned with his card and he took his time stuffing it and the check back in his wallet, avoiding this awkward conversation.

"I know what you meant," Minho joked as Newt finished stalling. "And yeah, if you don't mind, I'll take you up on your offer this time."

They finished their drinks and made their way back into the cold, stuffing their hands into their coat pockets. Christmas was only a few days away and the ground was covered in a thick layer of snow.

"Thank you," Newt said, breaking the comfortable silence.

"What for?"

"Choosing my house to sing outside of? Taking the time to get to know me? I don't know."

Minho shrugged, "I do what I can."

"Oh, but Minho?"

"Yeah?"

"You're a really lousy singer."


End file.
